


Where We Begin

by RainStorm2122



Series: Will You Protect Me, Respect Me If I Let You Close? [4]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Accents, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Because Angel is an Anxious Mess, Cajun Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Coming Out, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Issues, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderfluid Character, Helpful Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), In a way, M/M, Minor Communication Barrier, Minor mentions of abuse/rape/unsavory things to a Spider in Kinky Boots, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Secrets, Sex Positive Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Small amounts of vore, Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Steamy chapters ahead, Tags May Change, The Shadow is a love ball, Trust Was Built, Understanding Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Walls Came Down, Were Had
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22673731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainStorm2122/pseuds/RainStorm2122
Summary: Angel and Alastor have been friends, then a little more than friends, then beaus, then something much more in the span of two years all since their first meeting.Enjoying seeing where they're at two years in, with occasional flashbacks, and seeing where they're going from here.Warning, some chapters will have a heavy seasoning of spice. I will ensure to note when and where from here on out. <3 Enjoy my Internet fiends~!
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: Will You Protect Me, Respect Me If I Let You Close? [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610371
Comments: 17
Kudos: 95





	1. Confessions, A Second Coming Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flailchicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flailchicken/gifts).



> So this chapter kind of explains an element in "...Rush In" the previous story in the series. This is where the story is really kicking off, and loads of information and bemusing happenings will be told.

It’s been two years since the **re** **al** opening of the “ ~~Happy~~ Hazbin Hotel”, not counting the failure of the two weeks that preceded Charlie’s humiliation on 666 News thanks to none other than Angel Dust. 

No, the family that came to be after that debacle only started counting the Hotel’s days of operation from the moment Charlie let Alastor in the doors. Their clocks reset and started forward from that moment when the Radio Demon first dipped his sadistic claws into the hotel for his own _amusement_.

Within the first year, Angel Dust actually began to make positive steps towards rehabilitation, even if it was just getting off the drugs at first, followed by less random brawls as Alastor started giving him pointers for when and where to get involved. Gradually, as Angel began to see and feel more clearly, he started backing away from prostituting. Not stopping entirely, just being more careful, not letting himself be abused so much. Putting his heels down and staying firm when he wasn’t comfortable with what a client wanted, or what type of scene Valentino had lined up for him. Much to his pimp's vexation of course. It took everyone within their little family by surprise when Angel let it slip that he was able to tone things down because his needs for attention were being taken care of by them, even if not in a sexual form. _Though, you can bet that he took good care of himself when the need arose, or he’d call up a familiar john that was at least decent to him._

Valentino didn’t appreciate being told ‘no’ by Angel when he’d eventually commanded the spider’s presence at the Porn Studio; each refusal sparking more rage. The Porn Overlord grew furious and foolish enough to attempt kidnapping Angel while he was out on a walk. A walk with Fat Nuggets and _Alastor_ … That didn’t go well for Valentino. It was quickly made apparent to the Porn Overlord that Angel was under another’s protection, and budding affection… 

_Valentino leapt from his limousine, the roach demon effectively intercepting the odd trio on the sidewalk, he didn’t wait for words to be shared; long past done with pretense and pleasantries by this point. Three hands latched onto and yanked Angel into his space, his top right hand damn near twisting the spider’s head around with the force behind the slap that cracked across his cheek, before forcefully throwing the spider to the concrete at his feet._

_Angel crumpled like a wet rag, a sharp cry escaping him as he cupped his rapidly swelling cheek with one hand, the three others went to hold his twisted ankle, a few bitten-back whimpers leaving him after that. The scent of pain and fear cloying Alastor’s sensitive nose. The pitiful sounds reaching his ears, the sounds making him feel anger and other confusing emotions - that he’d be sure to think on and talk through later-, but first…_

_Valentino felt a shiver run up his back as the sound of mad malicious laughter and shrill microphone feedback rang out from the crazed-looking Radio Demon. Alastor’s eyes flickering to his trade-mark radio dials, the shadows around him elongating like the claws of an overly large beast was hidden in their depths, those shadows softening and wrapping around the crumpled form between the two Overlords. The black mass reshaping into a dome to cover Angel like a shield and weapon in one, if the way that the inky mess was roiling was any indication. Valentino, so intrigued by the happenings with his downed whore, didn’t notice that Alastor had made his way over to stand directly beside him. That is… until red claws sunk through his exoskeleton, into the mushy mess of what filled the space inside his arm -- Alastor savagely yanking the top right arm from its socket at the shoulder._

_Exclaiming in pain at the suddenness of rather than the pain he felt, Valentino stumbled back and ground out between clenched teeth a sharp, “What the fuck?!” His expression was hostile and shocked from the attack._

_Alastor twirled the appendage in his hand nonchalantly, the manic smile on his face softening just a tiny bit as he leaned down to set a hand under Angel’s chin turning his face to view the cheek, before glancing at the obviously broken ankle. A click of his tongue behind his teeth and Alastor redirected his attention to the demon that had hurt Angel._

_“I will say this once now, and intend you to remember it until the end of your time. Angel has decided to no longer associate with you, or be as out and about as he previously was. We were actually just discussing you before you so appeared, as though summoned by some unseen being, hm.” A quiet chuckle to himself, voicing the thought that elicited it, “The saying: Speak of the Devil and He Shall Appear, comes to mind,” sighing, “yes, now just what could we have been discu-”_

_Cutting the Radio Demon off, his voice shrill through a grimace with grinding teeth, “He is contractually bound to me! I OWN HIM! There is NOTHING that WHORE can d-”._

_Alastor darted forward hands wrapping around Valentino’s throat as his true demonic form began to stretch and deform his more civil appearance, the force of the movement slamming Valentino’s back into his limo, as he spoke, “DON’T INTERRUPT ME.” Picking up the other Overlord and slamming him back down into the already dented metal, “HE may not be able to do something about it, BUT I CAN. Give me his soul, or I’ll devour yours to achieve it.” Alastor's voice heavily distorting with radio interference, sound overlays of screams and pleas interlacing as vèvè sigils glowed bright scarlet around him and reality began to glitch and warp._

_Needless to say that Valentino complied, if just to later try to get his revenge, but for now to spare his mortal born soul from the blood-drooling razor maws of the known cannibal above him. Contract in hand, Alastor let the roach go to escape as he turned to tend to Angel. Bending down to scoop him into his arms, Fat Nuggets inside Angel’s jacket with his little porky head peeking through white fluff contently, Alastor carried them back to the Hotel. Ignoring Charlie and Vaggie’s concerns -extreme opposites on what about but still concerns- as he quickly made his way to Angel’s room. Having his own two arms full, Alastor had to ask the other to open the door before quickly placing him on the overly bright and plush bed, magically summoning a thorough first aid kit, and asking the spider to remove his boot._

_Angel only agreed after copious amounts of arguing and a severe threat of bodily harm to Alastor if he so much as tried to remove the stocking off his foot. Compromising to have Angel roll the fabric down enough for Alastor to see and feel the ankle area only and then Angel could cover it right back up. Once everything was said and done Alastor left to think on his feelings on his own before talking to Angel about them - best not to give the recovering spider false hope, yes?_

_Several days after that impromptu-honor-defending Alastor approached Angel and offered his opinions on the spider demon. They sat and talked over coffee about how with Angel Dust becoming clean from drug use, not so impetuous now that the influence wasn’t there to muddle him up, Alastor found his company more than pleasant and tolerable. As Alastor had made note of by reminding Angel that they did spend more time together than they had before. Angel had snapped his fingers when it was laid before him that way, asking tentatively what this meant for them?_

_Alastor replied honestly that he wasn’t sure of much other than the fact that he no longer was repulsed by the other. Suggesting to maybe spend more time together when permitted: going for walks regularly, or reading together, or maybe even cooking together sometime for the family. They grew quite close by the end of that first year. Angel still slept around now and then but it wasn’t for the reasons like before. He didn’t feel the excruciating need for any type of love or affection he could get, he just had an itch that sometimes he couldn’t scratch alone, and knew that what he had with Alastor at the time wasn’t enough to attempt to rope him into lending a hand -- or better yet his dick._

It wasn’t until at the very end of that first year when Vox attacked the Hotel while Alastor was out taking care of his own sinful needs that their friendship-bordering-flirtation-ship became an actual relationship. When Alastor recalled the events of that day, with the help of Husk and Niffty, that he truly came to grasps with just what Angel had done for him by nursing him back to health (not that he wouldn’t have healed on his own, but Angel’s attention to his needs greatly speed up the process) did Alastor decide to court the ex-pornstar.

Talking it through together just as they had been learning to do, Alastor established a set of rules and boundaries that catered to both their needs and respected their individual differences. Before either realized, their modified and personal relationship was at a year.Those beginning days and rules having been revised and updated as time went on. 

_Until we’d finally reached this stage, the rules are still in place but with much more flexion now._

Angel laid in the dark as these thoughts and memories ran through his mind, a dopey look on his face as he absently traced the permanent dark mark on his upper left shoulder/neck space. Still amazed at having this physical mark of his and Alastor’s first tryst in the sheets, sometimes thinking it was a dream until he’d run his fingers of the mark and felt that cool magic under the surface: **_Alastor under his skin_ **. 

Fond thoughts beginning to sound in his head...

_It’s been two years since I first met you, slowly falling in love with you, and a single year of there being a definite You and I… A year of: stability, trust, love, happiness without the drugs influence... complete acceptance…_

The last two words echoed in his mind in a bittersweet tone...

Angel sat up from the large bed he shared with the demon responsible for _redeeming_ him in a way. Allowing him to see what he was chasing fruitlessly…

Releasing a soft scoff in the dark. Self-deprecating, but softened with disbelief.  
  
Don’t get him wrong, Angel Dust still loved sex much, _much_ , more than the asexual deer currently nose deep between their pillows, hands curled to and under his chest. Angel reaching to gently pet a relaxed ear tuft, the appendage not even twitching, a sign of trust and acceptance that the deer had in the spider. Alastor no longer flinched, hesitated, or side-stepped away from the arachnid. It helped once Angel learned to read when Alastor had had enough physical contact long ago and was able to divert his attention to the shade, currently snoozing in the deep dark of a pillow-fort. A fort that Angel had put together for him, reinforcing it with sticky spider silk, a place for the shade to hide out when Alastor had no need for it and Angel was otherwise occupied. A safe space of its own.  
  
A fond smile tugged the arachnids lips up, as he watched the curls of mist mimicking breaths of a sleeping beast.  
  
Looking back over his left shoulder to the grey-toned body a delicate foot away, _I could simply curl back into him. Go to sleep…_ _  
_ _  
_ _But…_ sighing out loud, the shadow of his mate rousing while the proprietor slept away, Angel gently shifted himself to the edge of the bed, pale furred legs meeting cool claws made of mist and magic as the shade slinked over to him. Curiosity shining in ethereal blue eyes. Leaning his head to touch foreheads with the creature, the spider breathed a quiet request, “take me outside?”.

A familiar sinking sensation taking hold of him, eyes closed to the darkness, before the sounds of the bayou greeted his ears much louder than before. Mismatched magenta eyes fluttering open to take in the clearing they’d traveled to.

Reaching one of his hands out to his companion, another touching the trees on the path to maintain his footing in the dark, he wouldn’t have to if Al was present, but when he wasn’t the bayou liked to play pranks on a lone spider. At times Alastor would have to seek him out, usually finding said spider upside down in native moss, or run up a secluded tree with crocodiles resting at the base. Not that the place had any ill-will to Angel, it just liked that it had someone to play with it, but it knew that as long as he was touching some of the trees he wasn’t out there to play. 

“Ya know, I wonda how long ‘til, Red realizes I’m out'n'about…” the shade turned to face him as he spoke. Pantomiming a response by shrugging and pointing both forwards and backwards.  
  
“Nah, I don’t really wanna go back just yet… I’ve got to think hard about this… if I _want_ to reveal this…” Sighing loudly he stopped with his back pressed to the current tree under his palm, another hand coming up to hold his head, “it’s not that I don’t trust him, Shay,” Angel spoke softly to the shadow replica of his mate, his husband, using the nickname he gave the creature after Alastor informed him he didn’t have one.  
  
“I trust him, love him, so much it used to terrify me. Used ta think how could someone so used as me be capable of love, how could someone so averse to touch be willing to touch someone perceived so filthy? It blew my mind… but I eventually realized that it was because we completed something in each other, ya know?” 

“Al’s always been so honest, so open about everything that he is. None of his magic is foreign to me anymore, I can even dabble it a little, a little of him remains in this mark and gives me that snippet of power.” Standing forward, the trees moving a little to let more moonlight into the clearing they’d stopped in, the ambient light making his pale fur glow and the incarnadine antlered radio mark flashing bright sanguine before settling to rest near black against the white backdrop. “It’s something, still not sure what all it does yet, but we’ll all figure it out… _or not..._ ”

Turning his head down, voice wavering slightly, “I haven’t ever thought to share this part of me with anyone before, but with your physical half, I want to…” Angel sighed hard, tears breaking his sentence off. _I’m just scared he’d be mad._ Angel wanted to add outloud but the tears began to fall.  
  
“What are ya holding back, mon chéri?” Familiar strong arms wrapped the spider from behind, not tightly just firm in comfort, that familiar Creole lilt in the other’s voice.  
  
Angel didn’t even jump, long since used to the deer just appearing from thin air, instead just tipping backwards into the embrace as more tears welled up. Alastor easily takes the full weight of the other. Nuzzling his nose where his favorite spot to bite was hidden under pristine fur. 

“Mon araignée ange, I can’t help if you don’t share,” more cries leaving Angel, worrying Alastor, “please, love?” Soft kisses started tracing the visible side the magenta heart and spots of that shoulder, trailing in soothing lines to Angel’s neck, in and out. A slow pace, a peaceful sensation, one of love and one that Alastor had never thought he’d ever use until he met the man before him.

Slowly the distressing sobs ceased, the other’s full on shaking slowing to a nearly indiscernible tremble, and Alastor whispered into their furred neck, “Stay out here, or return to bed?”

“Stay, please.” Voice hoarse from crying, still wet sounding. “I want the fresh air.”

“Okay, Angel.”

“I’ll tell you in a minute, can we sit down, hold me?”

“Always.” Alastor kept them pressed back to chest as they maneuvered to sit on the mossy ground, heads silently leaned together, as the sounds of the bayou from Alastor’s time alive played around them. 

Moments passed, crickets and soft scurrying sounds reaching them followed by the sound of heavy scaled bodies ambling about, the content feeling the atmosphere offered overpowered by Angel’s panicked thoughts. Alastor’s gentle touch the only thing keeping him from bolting to hide under the nearest log or bramble, _This is scarier than coming out to my Pa. Fuck… Please don’t leave. Please do-_

Finding himself spun around, encased in a dark tentacle the hold firm all over but not enough to set off his fear of being squeezed, Angel’s eyes shot open to star directly at glowing red. Alastor’s typical ‘wide-as-the-day-is-long’ smile replaced with a small frown and the edges of him are blurry -- it’s then that Angel realizes he was crying again. Red and black hands reaching for the damp fur just under his smaller eyes, thumbs brushing the wetness away.

“Please, sha, tell me what’s tormenting you?”

Concern heavy in Alastor’s voice, the aching look from him had Angel’s heart breaking more.

“I don’t want to lose you, Al.” He whispered, voice so tiny. For a being hovering at eight feet tall Angel truly felt as small as his demonic species when he spoke and Alastor released him from the eldritch arm to instead take him into his own grey limbs. A loose button up, with rolled sleeves, the only thing preventing Angel from rubbing his wet face against Alastor’s bare skin.

“What in the Seven’s, mon amour.” Alastor huffed on the top of Angel’s head, white and pink fur tickling his face, “I’ve no intention to leave you.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, the sting of fresh tears biting at closed lids, a lead weight sinking his heart into his gut, “What if I told you, I’ve lied. I’ve kept a s-secret?” Voice breaking, all four arms wrapping around the still figure holding him as the third set hugged himself, “A-after everything you’ve done, worked through. B-being an o-open book to me…”

The silence in the Bayou was deafening, Angel’s heart, weighed down with guilt and fear, feeling as though he would shatter once Alastor let go. 

_He’s gonna let go._

_He’s gonna be disgusted, and pissed at me._

_Please throw me in void of your making, don’t leave me alone again._

Angel’s internal monologue were screams full of these beseeching thoughts and terrors - imagining a world without Alastor cutting him deeply inside. Those inside thoughts unknowingly and unintentionally breaking free, tumbling from his mouth, Angel curling against the man he loved so much -- he looked half his height. Arms so tightly wound around Alastor it was a surprise (one Angel would thank for later) that the deer didn’t warp away or remove himself from the suffocating grasp -- even as magenta claws drew blood from where they were gripping. 

“Angel, Angel,” red claws carding through the spider’s fur, “What in the Seven Circles are you on about?” Alastor tried to break his lover out of his downward spiral, internally panicking himself as he was still so lost when it came to dealing with tears; especially when faced with the foreign sensation that they were wrong. _I used to enjoy watching others’ cry in fear, terror, pain… but dammit you little spider, stop please, please, please, Mère m'aide!!!!_

“Please tell me, Angel,” Alastor finally managed to force Angel to meet his eyes, tear-glazed as they were, “we can’t work through whatever this is without you contributing, sha.”

Angel sucked a breath in, a whining whimper squeezing its way up from his lungs, trying to force himself into calming down as Alastor’s eyes held his attention.  
  
Noticing constricted black pupils in his scarlet irises on carmine sclera, seeing the pain and confusion in those large windows, seeing just how scared and worried the infamously unemphatic Radio Demon was affected by his breakdown. _Infamously unemphatic… to those he doesn’t care for… those he doesn’t get close to, doesn’t let into that walled-up heart…_

Shifting so he could keep looking into those dimly glowing eyes, the bayou around them so silent as though it was listening too, Angel retracted his arm to hug himself only letting one hand hold Alastor’s for strength. Alastor’s free hand busying itself drying Angel’s tears before just resting on his cheek under the three smaller eyes.

Angel drew a breath and began… begging a God that though never cared before, that if He could just listen this one time, he’d never bother Him again.  
  
Starting off, slowly as the weight in his stomach sank further, his heart slowly following it, “I’m so sorry, Alastor. I never told you this. You’ve been honest since the start, but I’ve been terrified to show _anyone_ this,” he stressed the word, pausing.

The thumb just below his eyes gently swiped more tears before they could fall, Alastor’s attentive and concerned expression fueling Angel with a bit more resolve to continue. “When I came to Hell I knew I was here for many sins - the most prominent being Lust, my promiscuous life and wild partying guaranteed that, but I was surprised that beside being an eight foot spider with these flashy marks and a great bite… Already being gorgeous enough and skilled enough to lure anyone I wanted, seems Hell decided I needed an extra power besides what comes with my arachnid mix, ya kno-”

“Honey, I love you, but you’re rambling.” Alastor said with a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and Angel felt a pang from it. The hand holding Alastor’s tightening a bit. _Please..._

“Sorry,” Angel said softly, “when I got here I found I could swap into another form… One that is similar, but so different,” Al craned his head to a side looking as though he wanted to speak so Angel stopped to let him.

“Are you talking about your demon form, love?”

“No, no. Almost everyone has one of those, but this one is more dangerous regarding my own safety…” Drawing his knees up to his chest, the third set of arms coming out again, as Angel wrapped five arms around those legs… Closing himself off, protecting his body from _anything…? Everything…?_

“You know I’ve been raped before, used, beaten, anything and everything that could be done wrong to me and then some,” Angel stated, it wasn’t a question Alastor had heard all his mate’s tragedies, even going so far as to hunt those he could place down… _Many nights with Jambalaya for dinner were had in their two years together…_

For the first time since he actually started talking Angel looked away, visceral pain contorting his face as he braced himself for the explosion of outrage he knew would come, clenching his jaw and his eyes shut. Internally calling for a silhouette similar to his current body, but much smaller, much softer, much brighter, and much more feminine. Angel felt that long forgotten rush of power caress up through and over his skin, shifting his fur in reflex to the sensation. The feeling of his body shifting, narrowing and widening in various places, his stature shortening by two feet noticeable even as he sat. The loose clothing he wore tightening greatly in the chest and rear. Already pink and luminous marks glowing without needing a command to do so, or specific lightning to activate the bioluminescent aspect of them. 

Angel barely dared to breath as he drunk in the sensations he felt, this body long unused to everything. Everything ironically felt virgin against him, _nearly eighty years not shifting to this, yeah it makes sense… but fuck. Please don’t hit me… It’ll definitely hurt and not in a fun way… Please…_

Angel lost himself in his head, silently begging the red demon before him, so lost in his head that when the hand holding his let go he feared the worst was coming true. The terror of losing his mate, his boyfriend, his friend -fears once again choking him, cloying over his senses… those fears lead a new one to light -- Alastor knew, he was leaving, **_he KNEW and he was LEAVING!_ ** _He could tell anyone, everyone, could make Angel regret this for all eternity, could sell him off to the highest bidder and make all those dreaded and malicious actions done to him in the past much worse..._

Angel cried harder than before, wails bubbling up from deep in his abdomen, choking on spit and tears like a fist lodging in his throat. Begging aloud for Alastor to forgive him, to forget him, to not hurt him, or to just kill him immediately. 

Alastor’s black tipped ears lowered and tilted back ever so slightly as his unseen tail pressed flat to his rump, a distressed scent slowly seeping into his pheromones as his own heart began hurting at the sight of his mate’s distress. Alastor grimaced, lost as what to say to make Angel stop those unbearable thoughts. Reaching out his hands to cup tear-stained cheeks, only to feel his heart nearly stop for a second time in his life - rather unlife.

Angel shrieked. A shrill sound compared to his usual tenor, the deeper tone gone and replaced with feminine notes. The sound cutting through the bayou, nearly shattering Alastor’s eardrums as the redhead winced, but not removing his hands from either of Angel’s checks.

His shadow springing to life and draping itself behind the spooked spider silently cooing sad wisps into existence in an attempt to calm Angel, as Alastor murmured Angel’s name with soft hushings of his own.  
  
“Angel. My love, ssshhhh, Angel.” Alastor cooed, the sight breaking what little heart the other managed to piece together in his chest. Finally after several moments, Angel calmed enough to realize that everything was still soft. Still right. There wasn’t pain engulfing his nervous system. That Alastor was still there, the coolness at his back was familiar, the hands on his face were tenderly holding his cheeks, and that he wasn’t double dead…

Slowly opening his eyes he gazed, bewildered, at the Radio Demon shushing him, facial expression painful but still radiating a love that Angel’s long since grown accustomed to. One that was so foreign and lost to him.

“There you are, chéri.” Alastor said quietly, just a modicum of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “there you are.”

Angel just stared in trepidation and confusion letting Alastor carry on. 

“Mon ange, this is certainly something new to for me to become accustomed to,” Alastor’s soft smile encouraging a small flicker of hope to spark in Angel’s crumpled heart, “but this is still you, is it not?” Angel nodded numbly too shocked to verbally reply, “See then? I love _you_ not what genitalia or powers you possess, Anthony.” He murmured reassuringly, gently brushing a set of curved fingers down the side of Angel’s face.

Pausing momentarily, sharp brows drawn together Alastor briefly recalled a conversation with the spider demon about gender representation and preferred pronouns that some had. “Is it still okay to call you Anthony, my love? Do you have, uh-” the sound of a radio switching channels could be heard as Alastor fumbled a bit to word this correctly --the attempt and floundering bringing Angel out of his shell to help Alastor.

“Um, thank you, but no. I mentioned before when I brought that up to ya, and it still applies even now. I’m sexually gay, but as for pronouns I don’t really have a preference. I’ve floated between them since I was alive. Some days a little more embracing my boyish charms, more often than not crossdressing to feel oh so pretty, and at times just enjoying playing the middle field. Unless I’m intentionally dressed up to the nines’ in a specific gendered look, I don’t mind what you or anyone calls me, cervo.” Angel unwound himself slowly throughout his explanation, eventually taking both of Alastor’s hands from his cheeks to hold in his middle pair of arms. The third pair retracting as he relaxed more - not needing the extra security they offered.

Nodding attentively with an open expression on his face Alastor let Angel move his hands as he listened, “Ah. Good, good, pleased to hear that. I would most definitely comply if that had changed in any.” That earning a smitten look from Angel, it being shared between them. Angel tearing up a little, but this time in happiness.

His voice small, full of emotion and a tone higher than usual, “Thank you Alastor, thank you. I love y-you so much, thank you,” the newer alto instead of the tenor that he was so accustomed to; so interesting it was to the Radio Demon he took several seconds longer before realizing just what was being said.

Shaking red and black locks minutely in fond exasperation, “Dear, don’t cry and you don’t need to ‘thank’ me for anything, but I understand why you are…” Viciousness taking over his expression, features glowing red dangerously, “you never deserved to be treated as you were…” The look fading as fast as it had come, as Angel’s pitching giggle left him. 

“What _prey_ -tell are you laughing at, mon régal?” Emphasizing the play on words. Rising to his knees to loom over the oblivious spider Alastor’s eyes turned playfully predatory, Eldritch tentacles recapturing Angel in an instant.

A small gasp escaped Angel from the sudden tightness, magenta eyes looking forward before slowly sliding up the expanse of red and grey to meet those sharp eyes - the mirth in them easily discernible so no fear was had. Coyly smirking up at the now taller demon, going lax in the hold of his magic, boldly pressing Alastor’s buttons with an exaggerated moan before answering, “The mental image of you defending my honor by ripping everyone that’s hurt me, _in the few ways that I don’t like_ I should clarify, in half before feeding them to us or your _pets_ ,” Angel finished looking pointedly at the monster encasing him, the Eldritch arms rippling as though it understood it was being singled out and laughing in response.  
  
Drooping back into the muscle surrounding him Angel heaved a sigh -one of relief and exhaustion-, Alastor’s eyes lightening as his ears flicked forward in attentiveness, “May we go to bed now, your fluffiness?” Alastor teased in his absolutely grainiest TransAtlantic accent, radio effect filled his voice as much as possible, the sentence sounding both close and far away at once. Giggles left the spider, morphing into tired peals of laughter, as just as Alastor had hoped. Between fits of laughter Angel managed to nod his agreement, _we can finish talking in the morning…_ “Let’s go to bed, Bambi.”

  
  
  


  
  
  



	2. Discussions with Zest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just continued to want more... Sorry it's such a late update but it would not let me stop... This is 19 google doc pages y'all! 
> 
> So some of you noticed that the previous story in this collection "Rush In" had Angel using she/her pronouns, and I touched on it in the first chapter, well here's more with plot, breakfast, a date, some Alastor backstory, and ending on zest (hence the rating change from T to E. The start of the E content is marked with 'xXxXx' so watch for that if you'd prefer to steer clear. <3 
> 
> I thank FlailChicken for the inspiration to my human Alastor description, then also I thank the all amazing Google. XD

Snapping his fingers, Alastor opened a dimensional rift under both Angel and himself, sinking into it briefly before the other end opened on the ceiling above their bed, the Eldritch arms releasing the captured spider in the same motion. Alastor landed on the bed in the same kneeling position as he was outside but Angel, having been supported by the dark arm of an ancient being was left to kick and squeal as he plummeted. Landing in the middle of the bed, the sheets, blankets, and pillows going airborne with his weight displacing them.

  
  


Shooting the snickering duo kneeling before him a dirty and indignant glare, entirely a front -- an act, as he kicked a black stocking covered foot at them, “Warning?” He sassed, both arms crossing over his torso. His brows pinched together, a pout pulling his lips together and down, laying the look on thick even though he knew that Alastor saw through it with ease.

  
  


Shay slinked, like spilt ink rolling down parchment, closer to Angel, their electric blue inner glow dimming slightly as vaporous claws reached to ghost over the drawn together eyebrows in a show of smoothing them. The touch barely felt aside from the chill that alerted Angel’s nerves that Shay was indeed trying to smooth his brow which elicited a small smile from the spider. A set of hands unfolding from his chest and reaching for the shadow’s arms. Giving the manifestation long enough to draw more power from Alastor to solidify, Angel’s hands grasping either black wrist gently, then pulling them to his mouth. 

  
  


Bright pink lips puckering to press simple closed mouth kisses to those flimsy hands, small tendrils of inky wisps escaping the creature, as though it was semi-flustered from the loving and thankful gesture. “ _ Grazie tesoro _ ,” Angel cooed, feminine voice lilting up as a mischievous smile curled his lips, the nebulous resemblance of Alastor releasing yet another puff of darkness at the tone and nickname before vanishing into the shadows on the bed. Angel’s trained eyes just able to watch it scurry to the pillow fort, hazy hearts and stars wafting from the opening shortly after.

  
  


Alastor’s throaty chuckle drew back Angel’s eyes, the spider quickly feeling like a fly caught in a web, as the red demon shifted closer and loomed over him: a bright scarlet beacon in the dimly lit room. Alastor’s bright red eyes flashing in amusement as Angel swallowed down a lump that built in his throat, fuller eyelashes lowering, his bright pink lips forming an ‘o’ as his jaw dropped after the swallow… Angel visibly shivered at the powerful look in Alastor’s eyes:  _ mine, precious, mate _ . The words unspoken but felt from how Alastor crowded over Angel’s now smaller frame, his shirt still on but not hiding how broad his shoulders were -how Alastor rolled them to enhance the perception of them being wide, _ a buck trait he’d explained before _ . Dropping whatever magic he used to keep his antlers small and inconspicuous, the dark bone branching from his head to nearly his full rack, a shift in his typical viceral scent that most demons wouldn’t notice. Angel basked and thrummed at the display, laying flat on his back with his arms either cushioning under his head or palms up on the sheets, legs bending up and falling to the side as he let himself be completely open to whatever Alastor had in mind.

  
  


Alastor’s own eyes gleamed, watching Angel splay himself, taking in the differences of this female body of his mate. Not bothered by it one bit, a bit curious in how differently (if at all) Angel would react to certain things, having long since accepted that the spider had caught his heart in an endlessly sticky web. Alastor had no intent to take this to a sexual level; it was more so just to make Angel complacent, get him to sleep easier with a thorough scenting, seeing how tired his mate was after all that emotional turmoil. Alastor smiled wide at how Angel submitted under him, they had definitely dabbled in many kinks and this was one of the firsts:  _ control, trust, surrender and safety _ . It fed Angel’s needs and allowed Alastor to determine how much touch was involved. Angel knew to keep to himself, he could ask to touch or move, but it was up to Alastor if it was permitted.  _ Many times full of pleading from you, my sweet, many sweet pleas.  _

  
  


Slowly moving until he was between those more than supple thighs, the white fur bristled completely as he skimmed dangerous claws up them the dangerous tips just poking under dark shorts before shifting to drag backwards to widened hips, lowering himself to eventually lay stomach to stomach with Angel.

  
  


Angel’s breathing picking up, shivers wracking through his body, fur tinting a brighter shade of pink, until it all froze caught in a hitch, just as Alastor settled flush against him. Angular chin cushioned by both familiar chest fluff and unfamiliar full breasts. Alastor’s smile froze a moment as he processed the new development, internal thoughts racing as his touch-averse soul contemplated this new situation before happily humming a soft acceptance. The sound was more so to himself than to Angel, because it wasn’t the new shape that threw him more about the fact he’d never experienced this before, once fine with it he moved his chin a little more until he was balanced and they were both comfortable. 

  
  


Alastor’s weight settled from his hands on Angel’s hips, to his elbows, and eventually to where his long grey arms were stretching out to snare furred wrists with red-tipped clawed hands. A comforting yet assertive gesture between, Alastor’s lithe frame settled more firmly between Angel’s legs, as stress and worry bleed from them replaced by serotonin and dopamine a plenty. Alastor’s altered scent increased as he relaxed further atop Angel, his ears full erect and pointed at the spider, soft whimpers notching in the other’s throat. 

  
  


Angel was used to smelling others having been a prostitute in life and death. A renowned porn star in the latter, he was definitely used to many overpowering scents clogging his secondary sets of eyes -that acted more like noses than anything visual. But Alastor’s… now that was something Angel wouldn’t mind being smothered with. Typically all one could scent off the Radio Demon was the smell of viscera, blood, carnage, but at times when he was comfortable you could faintly smell damp soil, muddy water… But with Angel, those scents sprung forth and more: wilderness, musk, territory, a freshness of Spring dew and foliage. Smells completely associated with the deer traits the huntsman in life now possessed in the after. ‘ _ Deers may not mate for life, but this one did in death,’ _ Angel had mused to himself after taking Alastor’s mark; a mark that was now tingling with the maker's proximity. 

  
  


Angel loved it. Loved that he was being buried under this scent, the surprisingly heavy weight atop him, that he was the only one that ever had this privilege. That Alastor had let them work to this point,  _ it was such a turn on. Being the only one trusted enough to experience this by Alastor.  _ It made Angel dizzy, involuntarily becoming aroused at the display and the closeness to the other. Everything familiar and yet so new because this form hadn’t been used before, it had only seen the fiery hues of Hell once before Angel deemed it too unsafe, being so vulnerable to his partner. The one person that had repeatedly made himself vulnerable to Angel time and time again as they built up their relationship. From those early days of talking about themselves, likes/dislikes, to seeing how close or how much Angel could touch before Alastor’s aversion forced a stop, to now. Baby steps. Agonizingly slow baby steps but all those little one by one steps did was build a solid relationship between them. 

  
  


Angel whimpered again, primary eyes welling with unshed tears, as he twitched under Alastor’s loving stare -- a silent question in those brilliant scarlet eyes heard but unsaid  _ ‘What’s wrong, love?’ _

  
  


Angel answered it after a few more trembles, his thigh muscles contracting wanting to ensnare the deer between his legs but knowing better than to do so, so he whispered, “I… I love y-you so much. Thank you.” His voice tiny and foreign to his own ears, but filled with so much love and gratitude it couldn’t have been louder.

  
  


Alastor’s beaming smile, lowered a touch, taking on a much more genuine appearance  _ or if one was so brave to dare say: sappy _ , as he circled his thumbs over the wrists in his grasps while tucking his face into the luxuriously soft fluff, a muffled and thickly accented, “I love you, too,” spoken more into Angel’s skin beneath the fur than to where his ears could hear. 

  
  


Angel knew that this time nothing sexual would come from this, not stopping him from inwardly basking in X-rated thoughts and definitely planning a self-love session when he next woke, he let the heaviness of Alastor and his scent wash over him. Cloying over his senses as the sounds faded to nothing but the white noise of distant radio waves, the heat of his partner holding him firmly and reassuringly in place, eyes eventually losing their battle to stay open in fluttery movements.

  
  


Alastor tilted his head so that one cheek was to those new pillows, fur still tickling his nose but long since accustomed to the sensation enough not to sneeze, ears going limp and floppin to the side with the most gravitational pull as he watched Angel fall asleep before following the spider.

  
  


\----------------oOo--------------

  
  


A clatter of what sounded like a metal bowl and whisk hitting the floor followed by a familiar curse word, in a not entirely familiar voice… Alastor pushed himself straight up from the ball he slept in. Blankets and pillows alike falling away from him, like rocks in an avalanche, shadows springing from the wall to bubble around their master in wait. Wary and glowing red eyes scanning the room, noticing that his mate was not present, another spark of alertness had him moving --stealthily threw his shadows, the dark voids cool against his skin, until he could see around the doorframe that led to his kitchen. Glowing radio dials flickering out as Alastor took in the sight of his mate, the man…  still in his feminine form. The physical change of his partner throwing Alastor off-kilter for a moment before last night came rushing back to the Radio Demon, washing away his eagerness of eating what he had thought was a bold intruder. 

  
  


Fondly watching the spider struggle with his new disadvantage - being a whole one foot shorter than what he was used to obviously making it quite difficult to reach the tallest shelf where Alastor preferred to keep his coffee beans. Angel huffing and puffing as he bounced on the tips of his stocking covered feet in an effort to reach higher, his much fuller and fluffier areas bouncing in delayed quakes after him, stopping with his lower set of arms folded over his stomach and the upper set perched on his wider hips Angel grumbled likely an Italian curse under his breath before then shifting forms. 

Alastor watched in fascination, finally able to see the transformation more clearly: Angel’s more pink-hued fur bleaching back to mainly white -just the tiniest off set of pink highlights- interspersed with his heart and dot patterns, the pink paler as well, his hips and rear narrowing enough for the tightly stretched shorts to become loose enough for a hand to slide easily underneath, his tank top loosening as full breasts shrank back to firm pectorals, and the fluff over them lost some of its volume. The longer ‘hair’ atop his head shortening back into the normal length Alastor was accustomed to seeing, and the spider grew much taller once again in the eight foot range. 

  
  


Exuding a force of air in an indignant sound Angel easily snatched the offending beans, grabbing the grinding apparatus and french press while he was at it, before carefully setting them on the counter top then letting himself reform in his opposite sex body. Alastor’s sharp eyes watching the change intently, enjoying the way Ange’s fur seemed to shimmer with the change, still curious about how it felt to the spider. 

  
  


Intrigued still though Alastor continued watching from his post, leant against the doorframe, arms loosely crossed more so to be comfortable than to be closed off as he cocked one hip and let the other be lax. His weight braced on the leg leading up to that raised hip; his shoulder pressed to the painted frame. 

  
  


He watched Angel patter about the kitchen, still oblivious that Alastor was lurking, the spider dancing in place singing a jaunty tune as he skillfully made grillades and grits. The meat was a recent kill of Alastor’s, his grin fighting between feral with hunger and adoring with the loving consideration that Angel showed by being so okay with the cannibalism, the spider dredging the cut meat in a bowl of flour, salt, and creole seasoning. Shaking the excess off before setting the coated pieces on a plate near the stove then repeating with another, until all were done. Heating the oil in the skillet, once ready, Angel carefully cooked half of the prepped meat properly browned and the other half still rare, just cooked enough to bring out all the flavors. Setting the cooked meat aside with one set of hands while another brought already chopped celery, onions, bell pepper and garlic closer. First dropping the chopped onion in the meat-infused oil, sauteing them until soft and translucent, adding the fresh garlic a moment later. Adding in the bell pepper and celery another minute later, letting them simmer to become soft for five minutes cranking a little heart-shaped time, Angel grabbed two roma tomatoes to quickly dice - the ease of which speaking of numerous years of practice. The shrill ring of the timer not calling out long before pink claws reset it for another five while another set of hands dumped the tomatoes to the aromatic heap of vegetables.    
  


  
Alastor’s nose twitching as his ears craned forward, completely snared by the smells, as he continued to watch. Content to remain unknown for now. 

  
  


Those five minutes passed quickly with Angel shaking and scraping the contents of the skillet into a spare bowl, slapping five tablespoons of butter in the emptied skillet and letting it melt then adding flour and whisking it quickly. Turning his head to the side, not seeing what he needed. The other way… “Shit!”    
  


  
Quickly opening cabinets nearest him while muttering more curses with varying colorful additions, “Son of a bastard jackass. Fuckin’ Hell in a leotard.”   
  


  
“Where does Bambi keep you…” growling audibly from ten feet away, Alastor decided to step in, appearing behind the now shorter arachnid with what he’d been searching for apparating in his hands.    
  


  
The sudden sensation of closeness, cold brushes against his back, had Angel whipping around with a short squeal of Alastor’s name - heavily accented, his Italian coming out in his startled state.

  
  


Alastor silently responded with a cheeky grin splitting his face further as Angel huffed in an effort to catch his breath. The latter finally sticking his tongue out in rebuttal before snatching the ‘beef’ broth and red wine vinegar. Quickly adding the correct amounts of each to the skillet, the mixture smooth and thick after just a few skilled whisks, Angel added back the vegetables plus some generous Creole seasoning and freshly dried bay leaves. The meat was added right after, the piles being kept separate as best he cold, letting it all simmer until everything was heated back up. Careful that Alastor’s cuts didn’t cook further. Ladling out the already done grits before piling the grillades on top and taking both plates to the kitchen table. Alastor was already sitting with a chosen bottle of fine wine, the label had long since been removed and the taste while sharp with alcohol was also bitter with just the hint of metallic. The taste of iron lingering on the tongue with each bite of breakfast something that Angel has long since grown used to. He didn’t mind the blood wine his partner made and served them both, and definitely didn’t mind that there was a bottle of himself floating around the wine cellar - potentially drinking himself at some point, split between them like they are now with some random demon’s unlife essence. 

Angel smirked as he coyly watched Alastor’s ears flicker at the first bite, a nearly silent groan of approval following, as he mixed the barely cooked meat with that blood wine. Dimly glowing eyes widening a fraction as Alastor caught himself too late giving his mate a sheepish look, “So sorry, cher-”

  
  


Angel interrupted that embarrassed apology before the Radio Demon could get it all out, “Al, I promise you this to alway be true if nothing else, hearing you moan will  _ always be _ a compliment to me, so don’t you dare finish that apology.” Angel reassured, a lopsided smirk on his face. 

  
  


Calm and easy quiet took over as they finished their breakfast, Alastor taking the dishes to the sink to wash them -as well as the cookware- while Angel got up and made his way into the bedroom. The smaller spider looked deep into his assortment of clothes to find something that would actually stay on his figure, humming and huffing in frustration. “Come on, there has to be  _ something _ !”

  
  


Alastor’s Shadow bobbed between piles of clothing in the closet in an effort to help, their sharp azure smile warping into frown as everything it and Angel pulled out to assess was quickly discarded. Angel was growing more and more frustrated eventually stomping his stocking covered feet in a manner much resembling a petulant tantrum-throwing child. A shrill frustrated sound leaving him and echoing slightly around the room. The nebulous version of his partner coalescing from vapors to a more physical form, dark black talons reaching for Angel, the creature wrapping the spider in a chilly hug. The chill of the void and under-dark that consisted of its’ being radiating from it like body heat does from a living being. The cold grounding Angel in the midst of his fit and giving him a chance to catch the breath he hadn’t realized he’d begun to lose. Focusing on slowing his hyperventilation until it was a reasonable in and out pace - eventually releasing a deep sigh. 

  
  


“Angel, are ya okay?” Alastors’ Cajun accented voice carried into the room, softly alerting Angel, though the shade in his arms already knew that deer demon was coming in. 

  
  


“Honestly,” a heavy huff of air, further deflating into himself, “not entirely…” Angel confessed, slowly letting go of the shadow in his arms, though one hand took the offered wispy hand, in favor of letting Alastor pull him into his chest. The now taller of the two setting his pointed chin on the top of that white-furred head, longer white fur curling like hair and tickling his chin, cheek, and neck. 

  
  


Humming into the top of that wavy mess of white, sporadic pink spots decorating the tendrils, “Care you talk about it sha?” A gentle kiss pressed to Angel’s forehead. A touch of reassurance, a touch tempting to divulge. Angel smiled regardless, lips curving against that dark grey skin, Alastor’s shirt collar still unbuttoned for his viewing pleasure. 

  
  


“Can we sit?” 

  
  


No sooner had the words left his mouth did he find them across the room, back on the bed, Angel’s back was pressed firmly against Alastor’s chest. The deer demon behind him and sitting up against the headboard. Burgundy covered legs bent on either side of Angel’s,  Alastor’s arms overlapping Angel’s second set, grey chin hooked over Angel’s marked shoulder, the Radio Demon clearly ready to listen and provide comfort.

  
  


Snickering, “Y’know not too long ago you’d be internally freaking out about potentially needing to comfort me, but now you start off all confident.”

  
  


Grimace hidden just from Angel’s peripheral vision but the tone of voice conveying it clearly, “I much prefer to not be reminded of my internal flailing, my dear.” The radio tin added back to Alastor’s voice, his discomfort telegraphed out loud and clear.

  
  


“Sorry, Bambino.” Titling his head to the side, nuzzling cheeks with the sour-faced deer until he felt Alastor nudge back in forgiveness. Angel started with taking a deep settling breath before he dived in, primary eyes pinching shut, head dropping back over Alastor’s shoulder behind him.

  
  


“Alright. We talked before about this, and we touched on it again last night, but I’m going over it again.” Al’s chin bobbed in a nodding gesture, the action digging it into Angel’s collar bone, drawing a hiss but the spider continued. “Back in life I didn’t know the terms for this shit, but over time they were made, right? Looking them over when I finally heard of them in The Studio,  _ hush stop your growling _ . I looked them all over, still am, it’s how I helped you classify what you are.”

  
  


“The Asexual, yes?”

  
  


“Yup. I found my term, genderfluid. Do you remember what the definition is, Mr. Scholarly?” Angel teased, but was honestly curious if his love still recalled the information. 

  
  


The sound of a radio turning stations played out from his redheaded mate, Alastor obviously wracking his brain to find that tidbit of information. A ‘ding’ sound preceded him replying, “It refers to a gender perception that varies for that individual, I believe.”

  
  


Angel beamed up at the ceiling, melting a little more into his partner, “Such a smart deer,” a sharp nip to his shoulder in retaliation to that comment had him giggling, “Okay, okay,” blunted claws digging into his sides had Angel curling into himself guffawing hard laughter, “I’m sorry! I’m so-sorry! ALLLLLLLL~~.” 

  
  


Alastor’s torture ended after a few more finger twitches, Angel slowly uncoiling and wheezing as he caught his breathe, “Evil, evil, Voodoo master.” Alastor’s grin peeled back sadistically as he hummed his acceptance of that title, quietly waiting for Angel to recover. 

  
  


“Ah, okay, so you got it right. My perception of my gender changes. It’s why I don’t always care much about gender pronouns. It’s why I dress in both skirts and slacks, but there are times it does matter. I’ve asked you a few times to call me she/her, when I need you to.”

  
  


Interjecting again, though Angel didn’t mind, “Like that time at the jamboree we crashed? The one where we had the killing spree? Oh such a wondrous night~!” A sound track of cheers played. 

  
  


“Yes, love, like that night. I dressed up so pretty, but that dress was shredded by the end of the night so I couldn’t keep it.” Turning his head on that warm shoulder to face the side of Alastor’s head, black tipped bob dusting and mingling with his white fur. “So like that example, there are times where I feel more male, times where I feel more woman, and times where I just wanna do my own thing with no gender conformity.”

  
  


“Mm, so about earlier?” Alastor gently pressed, bringing the re-education back to the issue with the closet.

  
  


Sighing, stocking covered feet kicking a little like a child again, “Ugh! Oh okay, so I’m having an issuuuuue.” Angel whined, voice warbling a bit with unshed tears, still Alastor felt the slight dampness against his uncovered neck. Stroking Angel’s second set of arms to offer what comfort he could, waiting for Angel to continue. “None of my clothes fit me now. Not a one!”

  
  


Feeling Alastor’s mouth open, one of Angel’s hands covered it, “Zzzt. I already know I can just change back to being my gloriously tall and smexy male-self, where what I want to wear fits,” a grumble vibrated under his hand that Angel ignored, “but I don’t want to. At least… not right now… I wanna enjoy this. Just for a bit, Al.”

  
  


Alastor’s face pinched together, a look of sheer appalment dimming his smile as he lifted away enough to look Angel in the eyes, “Firstly, do you just say, ‘smexy’?” The revulsion on his face said it all. “That is not a word in any language, Angel. I think that nearly deserves the boo-box for  _ you _ .” Alastor’s eyes flashed to radio dials as his smile regained its sadistic magnitude.

  
  


Poking a single blunted magenta claw where the red X on his mate’s face was beginning to glow, “Oh, silenziosa. You still love me, or I’d have long since been fodder for that monster in the other dimension.” Trying for a testing peck to Al’s lower lip, Angel pulls back at the quick snap of sharp yellow teeth the action followed by Alastor’s laugh track and his own laughter. “Oh, sure laugh, one day you’re gonna bite my lips off and feel bad about it.” Angel chided, four hands pressed over his heart as though to keep it from leaping from his chest. 

  
  


“N’aw, sha, they’d jus’ grow back, tink’o it as lip service.” Ears twitching just as he caught the two hands coming for him, “but to continue this serious conversation mon ange, before we completely derail.” Physically manhandling Angel back to their starting position, back to chest, chin over the spider’s shoulder, “Secondly, gender pronouns for today, my sweet?”

  
  


The metaphorical brakes skrrt’d in Angel’s head, not being gifted with his own soundboard, as Angel was pinned by that question. Not having asked that to themselves yet, or having given it much thought since deciding to cook. Angel dropped his head back over Alastor’s shoulder in thought. Alastor drummed his fingers up and down Angel’s stomach, tracing protective veve absently, as he patiently waited.

  
  


After several moments Angel spoke again, “I…” pausing to peer large heterochromatic eyes at half-lidded red, “I feel feminine… like I want to dress up… can you help me though?” Angel asked, pink glowing under white fur. 

  
  


“First tell me your chosen pronouns, mon ange.”

  
  


“She/Her. But if you slip that’s okay.”

  
  


Nodding in acknowledgement, “How can I help, sha?” 

  
  


Flipping back around to where her knees were under her again, “Magic me up some clothes until I can alter some of my own or buy more that will fit this frame?” Angel pleaded, four hands clasped, head tilted to the side, lower lip puckered out.

  
  


Smiling softly Alastor cupped one of Angel’s cheeks just below her eyespots, “Tasteful items please, but tell me what you want.” He offered, thumb stroking that oh-so soft cheek. 

  
  


Angel launched into a description of her desired articles of clothing. Preemptively stripping, even though it wasn’t necessary Alastor allowed it, pink tipped fingers tracing outlines of what she wanted to help Alastor create them. Dark coils of magic wrapping and binding around Angel, a tight triangle of fabric with a thin lacey band encircling her widened hips, the triangular shape narrowing significantly and slipping between muscle cheeks as it went between Angel’s spread thighs. The liveliness of the black material stilling, a dark plum color appearing in the material left behind, as magic travelled like smoke up Angel’s stomach and cupping her breast next. Breasts pressed together and up, her fluff pouring over the lacey edge forming around the brassiere, soft material firming under the raised breasts to keep them sat in place, two finger wide straps stretched from the tops of the cups to over Angel’s shoulders, travelling down her back to thick band that ensnared her torso. Darkness leaching from the material to reveal pale lavender lace with dark plum cups and straps. The backside of the bust band stayed black for added contrast to Angel’s creamy white fur, Alastor’s grin widening as Angel observed and enthused over the color choices. Pressing a kiss to the inside wrist of the hand that was still palming her cheek. 

  
  


“Now for outerwear, my sweet.” Angel hummed, four hands idly palming and stroking over the new garments in thought. 

  
  


“A simple sundress would be nice?” Angel whispered, enjoying the feel of herself, some fur beginning to raise slightly. 

  
  


Alastor ignored the sight of Angel’s arousal, instead calling up a big more dark fumes, a simple dress appearing and melding to Angel’s body. Careful to fit her second set of shoulders right as well as making the material appear between her roaming hands and body. The dress was thinly strapped over her shoulders and the breast line dipped low enough to allow for the voluminous fluff to spill out without getting caught, The material was thin and soft, loose enough Angel could suck in a large breath and still have the material shimmy against her fur, but it clung in the right places to accentuate her fuller figure. Angel gasped watching the dark shadows bleed off from the material, revealing the simple flower petal design, colors appearing where appropriate. Red roses, pink tulips, lavenders with green stems, pale white lilies, with interspersings of yellows, greens, and oranges all on a pale baby blue backdrop. Angel ran her hands over the material, humming in pleasure at the sensations, carefully grabbing sections to pull up closer to her eyes. 

  
  


“Like it?” 

  
  


Her head shot up to stare at Alastor, mouth opening and closing several times in an effort to find the right words, but none came to mind. Tears quickly welled up and began to spill over just as she tackled the Radio Demon to the bed. Alastor released a huff of breath as it was knocked from him, okay with the forceful hug because he’d expected it. 

  
  


“Love it,” Angel cried against the side of Alastor’s neck, black and red strands of hair tangling on her tongue, Angel didn’t care though, all she cared about was how excited and pretty she felt. How wonderful her mate was. How lucky she’d finally gotten. How  _ blessed _ she’d finally became, and all it took was ninety years of bullshit and torture. How grateful she was that she hadn’t died a second death or lost her mate over all this.

  
  


Alastor’s soft chortle bounced through her frame, both demons pressed chest to chest so the sensation was easily felt, Angel herself jiggling a little on top of Alastor, “Do you realize you’re speaking out loud, mon ange?”

  
  


Biting her lips closed with her head rearing back so magenta and scarlet irises were staring at each other, “Ah…”

  
  


Angel’s embarrassment palpable in the air between them, Alastor just shook his head with a throaty chuckle, head cocking to the side with less than half-lidded eyes, “Sha, yous think I’d kill ya jus cause yous held secret back, som’tin so vul’erable? What? Am I’s a monsta?

  
  


Angel’s laughter peeled through the room after several moments of silence; Alastor just laying there enjoying the sight.

  
  


Before long though, both partners got up from the bed, putting their skills together to rearrange some of Angel’s clothing into articles that she could wear in the femme form. Styles for both genders. 

  
  


When they’d finished a snap resounded through the room. A new dresser appeared in the room just under the windowsill, dark stained oak with hot pink and white knobs, it sat there open and waiting for Angel to fill it with all her newly altered clothing. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


The day went on as normal for them, wandering the bayou with a picnic basket filled with light snacks. Apples, grapes, peaches, various cheeses, crackers, and some questionable meat cuts. Angel could tell what was for her to eat and what was for Alastor; easily recognizing the slices of prosciutto, pastrami, and genoa salami versus that more interesting cuts of meat looking like they were thin strips from a thigh muscle. 

  
  


Traveling to a section that had a more dry bank, the moss and grass that covered the ground happily absorbing the excess water and growing quite tall, the height of which Alastor easily shortened with a swing of his hand, shadows thin as knives edge cutting them down instantly. A space cleared for them both to sit and to see the water’s edge without obstruction. The murky brown water free of algae but speckled with fallen leaves, a few ripples here and there signifying that they were not alone. The near and distance croaking of frogs, the flutter of wings and calls of the herons and pelicans overhead, the rustle of turtles moving through the tall grass, and the distant dragging of heavy scaled bodies - _ alligators, oh boy _ \- all played like some nature relaxation tape that Charlie had gotten a hold of for the recovering residents of the hotel. 

  
  


“Ya know this sounds like what ChaCha’s been playing when we have our meditation block,” Angel started looking over at the deer demon, that salacious grin all the answer she needed but still felt compelled to state, “It’s your doing, isn’t.” Her voice lilting and dripping faux accusation.

  
  


Alastor just continued grinning at his partner, sharp yellow teeth on full display, as he took his seat atop the dark red blanket covering the ground. Ears erect and unseen tail swaying slightly,  _ not that he’d ever admit to that blasted animated clump of fur doing anything other than being a nuisance.  _

  
  


Shaking her head softly, “No wonder I’ve been nearly falling asleep every time since she started playing it, I sleep to the sounds and your heartbeat just about every night, anyways.”

  
  


Alastor’s devious grin shrunk to something more calm and fond, more accustomed to the flutter that quaked his heart, a sensation he’d never really felt before Angel. Alastor took two of Angel’s hands and pulled her gently in an effort to coax her to sit already. Keeping his right hand wrapped around her upper left, the middle set of arms leaning back and holding her up in a straight legged position, pressing gray lips to pink knuckles before letting go. 

  
  


A bright pink hue bled from under her white fur as Angel blushed, heat racing through her veins at the gesture, but the sensation calm and easily pushed aside in favor of just enjoying time with Alastor. Crossing one leg over the other and leaning further back Angel started speaking as Alastor began to hum while layering the finger foods together. 

  
  


“Tell me, did you ever swim in the bayou water?” 

  
  


A sly curl pulled one side of Alastor’s perma-smile up, but that look still tame, “Oh, did I. Gave mon maman quite the scare every time.” A soft chuckle rolling from him in easy shakes, his shoulders moving just slightly with the gesture. “There was the one time that I damn near became the meal of some ‘gator, but Husker shoved a log in that gaping maw just in time. ‘Gator crunched that easily, though by the time it’d finish tha, Husker had me gone gone.” 

  
  


Alastor’s scarlet eyes glanced up at his mate in concern as the sound of Angel falling backwards on the blanket preceded her peels of laughter. The feminine tone pitching the more breathless sounds higher, the laughter taking on a more squeaking tune than what Alastor was accustomed to. Though watching Angel roll herself side to side, four arms wrapped around herself in a futile attempt to contain the sounds, long legs bent up with her feet kicking in tandem, Alastor enjoyed it nonetheless. Deriving entertainment from watching Angel enjoy herself. Smile growing as his shadow separated from him and slithered to Angel’s with dark nearly imperceivable talons pressing into her sides, foiling her attempts at calming down by tickling her into more fits at every turn. Eventually her laughter brought on tears falling as chiming laughter became raucous and fulbellied, the sounds bordering on screams at times, Alastor let it continue moments more before commanding the dark creation into letting their beauty finally breathe. Angel just deflated, petite frame drooping and sagging as ragged breaths were fought for. An audible wheeze on each exhale that slowly diminished as the heaving attempts slowly evened out. 

  
  


Grabbing a long leg pulling it into his lap Alastor reigned in control of his form, making his claws round out like human fingernails, so he could pet and rub that furred appendage without drawing blood. Wanting to soothe Angel and not excite either of them. Starting just a handbreadth up from the sharp angle of Angel’s anthropomorphic arachnid knee, fingers moving gently yet firmly through the short fur, alternating between stroking and massaging down to her ankle joint and back up. Always one to prove the seemingly impossible Angel deflated more; all but literally melting off her skeleton with the affectionate and relaxing massage. The sounds of the bayou fading from either of their focus, Alastor just enjoying the tactile stimuli on his terms, it helped greatly that Angel’s fur was so soft. The muscles like jelly in her blissfully loose state, Angel’s body held no tension, face turned to the side with her eyes closed and mouth slightly parted. Slow and even breathes leaving her in a near sleep rhythm. The only thing belying that she was indeed awake was the soft hums and croons of bliss escaping her. 

  
  


Alastor meticulously worked one leg then the other. Once he’d finished giving them a gentle squeeze to alert the dozing spider. Angel hummed and nodded. Eyelids fighting to open, lazily magenta irises appeared through thick black eyelashes to take in Alastor’s face. Lax mouth closing into a small smile before whispering her thanks for the loving treatment.

  
  


“Think nothing of it, my dear. Now what had you laughing to start with?” Alastor questioned.

  
  


Her eyes stayed following the deer as he maneuvered to lie next to her on his side, “The image of Husky scruffing you and hauling you from potentially being some carnivore’s lunch.” 

  
  


Shifting a little until he was comfortable, head propped on the palm of his bent left arm, right leg bent and drawn up as his left leg laid straight on the blanket with his right hoof pressed to his shin. Right arm curled close to himself with the hand cupped over his left bicep, nails returning to his typical claws. An amused expression crossing over his face as he listened to Angel.

  
  


“Hm. I do suppose that would have been quite the spectacle to see from the outside. Especially having only known us as we are now and not as we were then.”

  
  


“What were you like then, Al?” Angel curled over onto her side, mirroring Alastor’s position aside from keeping her head down on her curled top right arm, the hand wrapping behind her head to bury in her hair. The middle right curled up and over to drape on her left hip as the left middle arm laid atop the curve of her waist and hip. Fingers absently playing with the hem of her newly made dress. 

  
  


“Hm,” sharp crackle of his theatrical radio overlay, “are you wanting to know what I looked like or wanting to know how I behaved in life?” His dry laugh track played afterwards.

  
  


“Can you tell me both, as much as you feel comfortable,” a soft sly smile creeped across Angel’s lips, “I mean unless you decide to eat my soul we kinda have forever together.”

  
  


Alastor’s grin spread wider, relationships especially one with a sexual aspect had never once interested him -Angel at one point had even repulsed him- but for some reason the spider before him had opened a new channel in the Radio Demon, the familiar tingle in his chest and flutter that spread the length of his torso was felt.  _ Butterflies, is what Angel had said they were, pesky little things that spiders should eat, though this particular one just induces more.  _

  
  


“Are you thinking poorly of me again? You have that dopey and confuddled look on your face that says you are.” Angel teased.

  
  


“Ah, yes. Thinking of what a pest you are for creating more of those foul butterflies inside me.” Alastor teased back.

  
  


Smiling brightly, the action alone making the spider seem to shine, “Awwww, you  _ loooooove me. _ ” She sang in a cutesy voice, snickering at the ear flick of irritation at it.

  
  


Knowing that his typical threat of eating someone wouldn’t work how he’d like with Angel, Alastor just ignored her and continued on, “So, want to know more about me d’ya?” At the eager nod from the other he continued, “You remember mon maman was a black, yes? Glad you recall! Now maman only mentioned that my father was likely a Greek immigrant, there was a band of dem travelin’ dat part out O’leans that she’d dabbled wit ‘round da time Ida been conceived. Story was it was a taller fella, tanned a rich honey tone, ochred brown eyes…”

  
  


“Oooo, did you get those eyes?” 

  
  


“Why yes I did.” Alastor boasted, noting Angel’s reflexive fur bristle, “and dark brown waves for hair. Maman said he’d worn it to his shoulders, the right side curling toward his face and untamable. Like him, my hair in life was untamable to start with.” An exasperated sigh breaking his storytelling for just a moment, one which Angel needed desperately already, “Sweet Loa, was’a beast I fought wit as a child, only doin’ as I bid once I’d shorn it short nuff da de curls couldn’t fight. My skin tinted darker, more my mamans’ tone. She was a smooth dark java where I had a bit more espresso skin tone. Darker than dat man but neva quite as deep as maman, no matt’a how long I baked in de sun.”

  
  


Angel whined and buried her head in her top set of arms, as Alastor just smirked and continued on, “I stayed fit from da jobs I worked, even after gettin’ on as a radio host, my  _ extracurricular, _ ” Angel cursed and squirmed at how Al drawled and stressed that word, intentionally messing with his partner’s weaknesses, “activities making sure I o’dat.” 

  
  


“What jobs ya do, country boy?” Angel fired back, New York accent slurring. Her left primary eye peeking out from a tumbled curtain of hair and her folded arms. Coy. Playful. Tempting. Magenta iris with no pupil glowing just enough to faintly light up her hair closest to it. 

  
  


Alastor paused, red ambient light refracting off his own body, a shark’s grin overtaking the lower portion of his face. “You’re aroused, ain’tcha?” He taunted, accent thicker than molasse, look becoming more predatory as Angel’s fur stood on end and stayed up. Shifting her hips more actively when called out.

  
  


“Your antler’s ain’t branching, so I know you ain’t helpin’.” Frustrated at the lull in conversation, especially one about such a hot topic… Eyeing the deer up and down in an obvious gesture with a pout. 

  
  


“No, I certainly don’t feel like mounting,” he started in that radio tin, easily moving himself to be above Angel. Both hands and knees caging her in under him, carnivorous mouth lowered to where an ear hid as deep Southern saturated his words, “ But I can watch ya squirm, watch ya become a mess, sha. Listen to ya cries and groans. Pleadin’ for ma touch, but all ya gets is words.”

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Angel’s jaw dropped open, heat engulfing her from head to toe, radiating want from Alastor’s dark drawl. “Ya really know how to get me goin’, fuck.” Angel whimpered, rolling prone under Alastor. Hips stuttering against the blanket, an unconscious effort to release some of the pent up desire, not getting much friction but the familiar motion helpful nonetheless.

  
  


Nose and mouth ghosting around and along the side of her head, up-down her neck, across the tops of her upper shoulders, Angel was hissing with sharp intakes of breath to the teasing gesture. “Mmm,” the bass in Alastor’s voice easily rumbling under Angel’s skin and spreading like slow ripples of water, “ma first job was a herder. Chasing around de livestock, puttin’ up fences to keep dem from de ‘gators, I’d’nt stop me though. I’d sneak back a coupla nights ta get Maman some fresh ingredients. I came to be quite well at hoppin’ dem fences, sneakin’ in widout wakin’ de animals, perfectin’ ma actin’ to keep de farmer off ma trail.”

Angel groaned, upper left arm curled under her head to rest her forehead against, upper right stretched before her with her claws deep through the blanket and anchored in the soft soil under, both her secondary arms moving down to her mound. Hands halting momentarily at the newness, unfamiliar with what was currently her sex, but Alastor’s softly whispered reassurance and her own reflexive finger twitching brushing over what was throbbing coaxed her on. A soft sound left her, fingertips circling over a smooth hardened nub, as Alastor nosed at her nape before continuing.

  
  


“Ma next job was a laborer. Workin’ hard under de sun, sweatin’. Strainin’. Swingin’ an axe to cut de trees for lumber, helpin’ tearin’ up land for buildin’ on…” Each pause in Alastor’s story was a nip, a claw, a brush of whatever against Angel’s raised fur. 

  
  


She’d quickly gone from circling her clitoris to balling that hand up and grinding against her knuckles, keening at the sensation as her folds grew damper. Her right lower hand explored where the lubricant was coming from, moaning as a magenta colored fingertip dipped slowly into a new entrance. Soft, spongy, hot… “Is that good for you, sha?” Alastor breathed against her ear, the skin under her raised fur burning hotter.

  
  


Nodding and whimpering into her arm was Alastor’s only answer as Angel continued playing with herself, grinding rhythmically against her fist as he moved on. 

  
  


Alastor continued describing what jobs he’d performed, bypassing the one where he’d been his mamman’s care-giver as it was most certainly not appropriate for the moment, but he did go into detail about his first murder. Describing with pinpoint accuracy the details of that night, how dreadfully frightened the lad was, how magnificent that first swing of his ax was, how foul and bloody that particular patch of the swamp was, how ravenous he’d been after sampling that delicacy. In  _ visceral _ detail painting himself as predator, predator then and  _ now _ . 

  
  


Angel drew her dress up with her third set of arms, moving her knees under herself to raise her ass to press firmly to Alastor’s hips, grinding back into him for the thrill of the sensation -even if he was still flaccid-. Whining loudly, a curse leaving her, at the lack of stimulation to her front. Angel’s building frustration halted as a clawed hand dug into the small of her back, pressing her flush against a thick and solid eldritch arm. 

  
  


“Fuck!” Angel rocked hard between the dark manifestation between her legs and Alastor’s hips. Third set of hands gripping his trousers as her middle set continued trailing her breast with one hand the other thrusting into herself, her top set locked in place holding her up against Alastor. ‘ _ For an asexual, this motherfucker can sure talk a bitch through one~’ _ Angel briefly thought. 

  
  


Mouth dropped open sucking in heaves of air just to release them as quickly. 

  
  


Warm air added to the sweat that was permeating white fur, yellow teeth sharply grazing sensitive skin, as Alastor spoke and added teasing thrills to work Angel up further. Purposely making his accent slurred and breathy, counterbalancing Angel’s thrusts with the arm that was claws deep in her back by thrusting it back. 

  
  


“What do ya need, sha.” 

  
  


Panting for a moment, swallowing thickly before her throat would let words through, “P-pain.” Voice breaking and breathy.

  
  


Deep in the chest humming, the feeling of which vibrated through Angel, electric thrills shot through her body at it, “That I can do, but how?  _ Where? _ ” The last was growled right under her ear, Alastor moving down with bared teeth. The little voices in her head screaming ‘danger danger’, the razor edges so close to breaking through, brain converting the fear feeling into arousal. 

  
  


Angel kept moaning and twitching, body jolting with each moment closer to orgasm, Alastor predatorily brushing along Angel’s neck, shoulder, nape, shoulder, neck, performing a small circuit until told to bite. 

  
  


Ears forwards at the shift in tone of Angel’s moaning, able to feel the familiar frequency that signified the other’s orgasm, seconds before Angel’s truly feminine cry of his name. Taking it as the command it was, Alastor bit harshly into the nape of the spider’s neck. Blood rushing past his teeth and over his tongue, hot and heady, metallic with the additive of Angel’s pleasure running rich. Enjoying the taste near as much as Angel was enjoying her moment of suspended bliss. Once the stutter of her body stopped Alastor released his jaws but moved both arms around the slender pale waist, easily maneuvering the other so they were lying on their sides. Back to chest, with crimson claws carding through damp and cooling fur. The first few passes leaving streaks of blood in their wake - not that either minded. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any questions I'd love to answer them in the comments, or if you just wanna drop in how you feel I absolutely look forward to it, eagerly so!


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